


Chilly Night

by belivaird_st



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Freak Show
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 23:42:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17192414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: Elsa is not feeling too well and doesn’t trust Ethel’s help.





	Chilly Night

Tonight, Elsa felt cold and congested. Sniffling inside her circus tent, she laid her head to rest on a pile of powder blue crescent moons-and-black-starry-night printed pillows. She held onto her achy forehead with one hand, grumbling with absolute pain and suffering. 

Ethel came walking inside the tent; cradling Ma Petite in one hairy, fat arm, while carrying a wooden bowl filled with steaming chicken noodle soup in the other. She stopped in front of the sick Elsa, and gave her a polite smile and nod.

“Madame, good evening,” she greeted. “How are we feeling?”

“Like a herd of elephants stampeded on me,” Elsa whined. She blinked several times in confusion at the sight of Ma Petite. “My darling, Petite— have you come to cure me?”

“Anything for you, Miss Elsa!” Ma Petite chirped. She then stuck both her arms out for Ethel to pass her over to the world’s favorite circus mother.

“Let’s have soup first,” Ethel spoke hastily. She took a few more steps holding the wooden bowl of soup closer. “Drink this, Madame...” watching Elsa lean over in her satin robe to reach and grab the hot broth. 

“What is it?” Elsa brought her nose near the bowl to take a whiff. She could barely smell a thing whatever was in this concoction.

“It’s Chicken Noodle,” Ethel responded. She took the wooden spoon Ma Petite was waving around in her hand.

Elsa secretly was afraid that Ethel was trying to poison her. She held the soup back to the bearded lady, accusingly. “Try some yourself,” she growled. “If there’s a chance that I go down, you’ll go down with me...”

Ethel rolled her eyes, but took the wooden bowl back. Elsa watched her closely as the rim pressed between the Freak’s lips, and the bowl was dipping high in the air. Ethel slurped some of the salty, warm broth. Then pulled the meal away. “See? Nothing.”

“Feel better, Miss Elsa!” Ma Petite exclaimed. Again, she stuck her arms out. This time, Ethel carefully passed her along. Elsa took the tiny woman and held her by the waist with two hands, like a baby.

“My dear, sweet, sweet, Ma Petite,” Elsa purred, cradling her below her chin. “I’m feeling so much better, already...” She sniffled and smiled, but still cold nosed and congested. 

Ethel quietly went to go set the bowl down somewhere.


End file.
